Apostrophe S

Cripes. I don’t post on my internet weblog for 4 days and people think I’ve DIED? Are these posts that riveting? Is it like getting ready to watch your favorite TV show and finding reruns for three weeks in a row? Perhaps you’ve fogotten there are other means of contacting me?

So what have I been up to since early Sunday morning? Not much. It’s been a rather uneventful week, up until last night. Last night rocked. But let me catch you up on the non-events first.

Sunday night was fun. Actually, it’s not a non-event at all. It was an event. There was a mojito party/bonfire at Mouse’s place, attended by Roxy, Mouse, J, and myself. There were mojitos and s’mores and “Malcolm in the Middle” galore. It was good times. What is a mojito, you ask? Let me digress…

< tangent >

While rooting around the Web, I stumbled upon a new favorite Web site, or at least a frequently visited one. It’s a perfect cross between entertainment and usefulness. It’s www.droogle.ca. It’s an imitation of Google, obviously, but it is also an extensive mixed drink database. So go there and type in “mojito” and see what you get. Also type in your favorite expletive. Lots of larfs.

< /tangent >

So back to the mojito party. Actually, that’s about it. We sat around a fire, ate s’mores and drank mojitos. Oh, and there was some darn good chicken-type sausage for eats before the fire was started. Yum.

Monday? What can I say about Monday. I went to work, a little tired but OK. I left work, went home, worked on some projects, then watched a movie when Rachel came home from work. Monday was good and mellow.

Tuesday? Tuesday was great. Again, went to work, came home, had some pizza. Then Talula called and invited me to go to a bar near Asbury with some other Press kids. (I say kids, even though I’m usually the youngest by about 10-15 years.) It was good times. Some beers and some laughs.

Wednesday? Now there’s the real ticket. My Wednesday has been the highlight of my week thus far. I drove to Brooklyn to see a band called the 5.6.7.8.’s at a club called Southpaw. You’ll remember the 5.6.7.8.’s as the band that was playing at the House of Blue Leaves in Kill Bill Vol. 1. Three Japanese women playing guitar rock. They were a blast to watch play. The club was pretty cool, too. And I only got a little lost in Brooklyn trying to find the place. Well, maybe a bit lost, but J and I did get there in time. Last time we depend on phone directions from J’s sister. We met Roxy and a long lost friend of her’s, who lived in Japan for a while. After the show, we had to take Roxy’s friend back to Manhattan where he’s living, but not before we stopped at Yaffa cafe on St. Mark’s. This was my first return trip to an establishment in the city, so that was cool. The drive home was a little tiring, but I made it just fine, by about 4:30 this morning. And get this: I made the whole trip with my T-Bird. That’s right, the T-Bird has now touched Staten Island, Brooklyn, and Manhattan roads. It’s been over the bridges and through Holland Tunnel. Very cool. Indiana just won’t seem the same to my poor car.

What else is on the plate for this entry? My dad forwarded me a great email. Actually, it’s just a link to draftbruce.com, a site that asks you sign a petition asking Bruce Springsteen to put on a concert at Giants Stadium at the exact same time as the Republican nomination is declared, which will be Bush, duh. Hey, that’d be awesomes. I signed it. So should you.

Take care…

ON AIR: The Killers - Smile Like You Mean It